Just a Feeling
by Kalysia
Summary: Everyone is feeling a bit odd, as a storm begins to beat down. Could it be more than just a feeling?
1. Wasted Considerations

Title: Just a Feeling

Author: Michelle

Rating: PG-13

Fandom: X-Men

Spoilers: Slight X2

Archive: Go for it! Currently at MVids.

Feedback: It would make my day.

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words, as well as the character named Michelle. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This is my first X-Men story, and it features the same OFC that I have used in previous fandoms, except, now, she is a mutant. Though her first name is the same as mine, there is not meant to be any attachment to myself. I try my best to stay away from the Mary Sue area, and have only had one complaint in two years about her being one. I hope that you enjoy the story.

Summary: Everyone is feeling a bit odd, as a storm begins to beat down. Could it be more than just a feeling?

* * *

"Jean!" Logan screamed, as he ran through the halls of the mansion. "Jean! Someone get Jean!" He continued running to where Jean kept her facilities, not stopping for any questions. All that he could think about was getting Jean, and saving the almost lifeless body that lay in his arms. "Jean!"

"Logan?" Ororo called from behind, trying desperately hard to catch up to him. "Logan, what's going on?" Logan didn't look back.

"Get Jean!" he yelled, as he reached the door to her medical room. Jean jumped at the sound of the door being forced open, and stared at Logan for a moment before reacting.

"My God," she breathed. "What happened to you?" Logan set the body in his arms onto a table, and let Jean do her work.

"How is she?" he asked, trying to catch his breath. Jean shook her head, trying to find a pulse in the girl's neck.

"I don't know, yet," she informed him. "Tell me what happened so I know what to do, Logan." She looked up at him, and he looked away from her. Jean sensed that something was wrong, but couldn't point out just what it was. There was only one thing that she could think of that would cause Logan to go silent. "No," Jean said, looking to Logan again.

"Yeah," he confirmed, nodding his head. "She did it to herself."

...

Three Days Earlier

Logan sat in the kitchen, right on his favorite stool, sipping on a beer. He couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried, and the storm that was collaborating outside was no help to him at all. However, it wasn't the storm that was causing his lack of sleep. He had been having a strange feeling all day long, a wierd, premonition type feeling, and it didn't feel very good. The last time he had felt this way, they had lost one of their own, and that was something that only upset him further.

"You're up late," came a female voice from behind him. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was; she was the only person who was also constantly up at the same hours that he was.

"Is that a surprise, Michelle?" Logan asked, with a light laugh. He could hear her rustling around in the refrigerator for something, and turned to find out what she was doing. "Lose something in there?" he asked her, amused to no end by the frustration that she was bringing upon herself. Of course, she had done that since the first night that she spent in the mansion. She was jumpy, and didn't talk to anyone. As far as Logan knew, by the time that she had been there for two months, she had only communicated with two people; the Professor, and Ororo. Other than that, Michelle isolated herself completely.

It surprised him one night, when he had gone to the kitchen for a moment of recollection, only to find her sitting at the far corner of the counter. She was all alone, which he figured was nothing new; he didn't see her much during the day, hardly ever, in fact, but he still assumed that she spent the majority of her day in solitude. Michelle had made an attempt to bolt at her first sight of Logan, but he had stopped her, and they had talked. Well, Logan had talked for the first few hours, until she had finally agreed to share some information about herself.

It took a little while, but he found out a few things; she was twenty-two, older than he had orginally figured. She couldn't control her power, which consisted of setting fire to whatever she had physical contact with, herself not included. Michelle had explained to him how she had accidentally set fire to her parents' house when she was fourteen, simply by touching the walls, which had been her first encounter with her powers. After the incident, her parents had kicked her out, in fear of what she was, and of what she would do. Since then, Michelle had been on her own, and Xavier's School for the Gifted had been her only hope.

Now, Logan smiled at how far she had come, but couldn't get over the fact that she had to fight the refrigerator to get to what she wanted, and, at the moment, the refrigerator was definitely winning. "Need some help?" he offered, finally deciding that she really did need some help from him. She just shook her head.

"No, thanks," she muttered subconsciously into the refrigerator. Logan shrugged, and went back to his beer; if she didn't want his help, then screw it. "Got it!" he finally heard her exclaim. He looked back to where Michelle was, and saw that she had her hand raised up in victory. To his disgust, her hand was cupped around a can of vegetable juice.

"How in the hell can you drink that stuff?" Logan scowled, cringing at the thought of drinking a freshly squeezed vegetable.

"Simple," she smiled. "As a vegetarian, I love vegetables more than anything in the world." She opened the can, and took a sip. "Besides, it's the only thing that I know I can safely keep in here without someone else taking it." She smiled again, and Logan laughed.

"Damn right," he agreed, knowing that the only other person in the mansion who drank vegetable juice and proclaimed it her favorite drink was one of Ororo's students, who had since left the school, and had reintroduced both herself and her psychic ability into the outside world. "What are you doing up?" he asked, randomly, curious about her mysterious habit of always being up at the same time he was.

Michelle shrugged. "I'm not sure." She leaned back against the counter beside the fridge, and looked at Logan. He had raised an eyebrow, as if he didn't believe her. "I've felt kind of off all day, but it's probably just nothing," she admitted, trying to assure him that nothing was wrong. "I get this way sometimes."

"Well," Logan began, as he took a sip of his beer. "If it's like the last time - ."

"It's not," Michelle jumped in, cutting Logan off. He put his beer down on the counter, and stood up. He stepped toward Michelle, and stopped a few feet in front of her. He crossed his arms over his chest, and sighed.

"Michelle, after what happened before, Professor Xavier said that he wanted you to be cautious. He said that, if you had any wierd feelings, if you sensed _anything_ off, you should go straight to him, and let him know." He looked into Michelle's eyes, something that he only did when he was either trying to make a point, or if he was trying to intimidate someone. In this case, he was trying to make a point. "No one wants to see you go through a repeat of that, so, if your feeling _is_ one that comes anywhere near being close to what the other one was, go to Xavier." He waited for a second, so that his words could register in Michelle's mind. "Alright?" Logan watched, as she nodded.

"Alright," she sighed, nodding her head. She didn't feel like being patronized any longer, and accepting Logan's words was easier than trying to fight it.

Satisfied, Logan went back to the counter, picked up his empty beer bottle, and threw it in the garbage. He began to walk out of the kitchen, when Michelle spoke again.

"This isn't like the last time, Logan," she said, staring at the floor. Logan turned back around, and stared at her in question.

"You're sure?" he asked, not liking her change of tone. Michelle nodded.

"It's worse."

* * *

Author's Note: This is only the first chapter, and there are more to go. I am anxious to hear everyone's thoughts on it, and I look forward to reviews! Until the next chapter...


	2. Sleeping With Paranoia

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words, as well as the character named Michelle. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Author's Note: Okay, I meant to have put up the second and third chapters the same night as the first, as I have had all three done since before I posted the first one. In any event, I didn't, so, her is Chapter Two! I hope that you like it!

* * *

Jean shot up, out of her sleep, her body covered in a cold sweat, and numb with fear. Her last dream had rocked her, hard. It was the third nightmare that she had encountered that night, and she had only been asleep for a few hours.  
  
"Jean?" Scott asked, groggily, as he rustled around for his sunglasses. It was always interesting to grope around with his eyes closed. "_No use in destroying the bedroom_," he had always told himself. Grabbing them off of the dresser beside their bed, Scott slid them on, and sat up. "Jean?" he asked again, as he placed his left arm around Jean's shoulders. Jean flinched, startled by his touch, and Scott quickly pulled away. "Are you alright?"  
  
Jean looked up, and all at once came back to Earth; all she had been thinking about in that twelve second period was her nightmare, and if it meant anything. She shook her head, and Scott became all the more concerned.  
  
"What was this one about?" he asked, knowing right off that Jean had come upon another disturbing nightmare. "The hurricane one again?" Jean shook her head. "Giant bear?" he joked, trying to lighten Jean's mood. She shook her head again, not paying any attention to the fact that Scott was trying to make a joke out of the situation, something that she normally would have hit him for. Not tonight, though; she was too shaken by the images that had been swarming into her head to care.  
  
"Scott," she began, her voice cracking. "Scott, I think something bad is going to happen." She looked at him, and he smiled.  
  
"You've said that every time that you've woken up tonight," Scott said, exhausted. "I'm beginning to think that you are just too paranoid for your own good."  
  
"Scott, I'm serious!" she yelled, sick of the joke before it had even began. "This whole thing could become _very_ serious if I'm having another premonition! You know that!" Taking into consideration the hurt expression that she knew was lining Scott's face, even behind the sunglasses, Jean brought her tone down a little. "You're right. I'm over reacting." She shook her head, as she lowered it into her hands. Scott placed his arm back around her.  
  
"No, it's not that you are over reacting, Jean," he assured, his best attempt at trying to comfort her. "There is nothing wrong with being wary. It's just that..." he trailed, trying to find the words. "It's just that any one of your dreams could mean _anything_, be it good or bad." He looked at Jean, who had raised her head from her hands. He hated to see her like this, angry, upset, when he knew that there was nothing that he could do to help her, except be there when she needed him. "It could just be this storm, right? I mean, in theory?"  
  
"In theory, I suppose so," Jean answered, truthfully. It was true; her dreams could mean as next to nothing as a plumming problem in the mansion. Even though she hated to admit it, Scott was right.  
  
"So, you might think about getting some more sleep, rather than making yourself a nervous wreck every time you have a nightmare." He placed his right arm around Jean's stomach, and held her close to him. "You ready to get some more sleep?" Jean nodded, and Scott kissed her on the forehead.  
  
"Good night, Scott," Jean muttered, as she lay back down on the bed. She grabbed the top of the blanket, and pulled it up over her body. Turning over, so that her body was facing the bedroom window, Jean felt Scott wrap his arm around her waist.  
  
"Hey, Jean?" he asked, his voice a blend of grogginess and curiosity. "What exactly was this dream about?"  
  
Jean's body stiffened a bit at Scott's question; she always told him everything, but this dream was truly disturbing. She had never been shaken so badly by a dream where people were getting hurt.  
  
"Jean?" Scott asked again, unsettled by her silence. Jean decided that it was time to let her boyfriend in on the truth.  
  
"Someone was killing the students here at the school."  
  
Scott sat up, startled, and looked down. "What? Are you serious?" Jean just shook her head.  
  
"Now, do you see why I was so rattled?" she asked. She never moved from her spot, staring out the window. When she didn't move, Scott returned to his previous position on the bed, and put his arm back around Jean's waist. They both knew that it was going to be a long night, one of unrest and no sleep.

* * *

Author's Note: A little shorter than the last, but, don't worry. The next chapter more than makes up for it in length! Oh, and, if you were wondering why Scott was wearing his glasses while in bed, don't worry about that, either. It will be explained, shortly! I hope that you liked this chapter! As always, I await your kind words! Until the next chapter... 


	3. Feathery Conclusions

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words, as well as the character named Michelle. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Author's Note: Alright, here's Chapter Three! I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! One warning, though, is that there is a moment of very mild slash in here. Just thought that I would let you all know. Enjoy!

* * *

"So, Rogue?" Jubilee asked from her position on the bed. Four of the girls had all crowded into one small corner of the room together, and were discussing everything that they could possibly think of. "Have you and Bobby..." she trailed, trying to be suggestive, while avoiding actually verbalizing what was on her mind.  
  
"Have we what?" Marie asked, beginning to laugh. She knew exactly what Jubilee was getting ready to say, but wanted to force her to say it.  
  
"Have you..." Jubilee tried again, biting on her lower lip. "Have you decided to see how dark it is under the sheets, yet?" Jubilee snapped her bubble gum, and smiled. Rogue picked up a pillow, and threw it in her friend's face.  
  
"That's for the question." Picking up another pillow, Rogue waited for Jubilee to recover a bit from the first blow. She threw the pillow at Jubilee, and laughed. "That one is for being so blind to have to ask the question." Jubilee looked up, surprised, and confused. Kitty wore the same expression, while Terma, the new girl, was still attempting to get over her amusement toward the flying pillows.  
  
"What do you mean?" Kitty asked, slight worry hinting in her voice. She had no idea what Rogue was referring to; was there something big going on that she didn't know about? In a moment of curiosity, Kitty let her eyes fall upon her friend's exposed stomach. If there was something to be seen physically, it stood to reason that a pregnancy would be a possibility. As she continued to study Rogue's stomach, Kitty shook the thought out of her head; if Jubilee was too blind to see it, it definitely wasn't that, especially since Rogue's stomach was not swelled.  
  
Rogue sighed to herself. "Bobby and I split up a few weeks ago," she admitted. They hadn't told anyone, yet; they wanted to see who would figure it out, or who would ask about them. Sure enough, her friends had been curious enough to ask about her personal business. "We just didn't click, I guess."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that," Terma sympathized, knowing what it was like to have split from her own boyfriend, just a week before she had come to the school. Her power required it; she could read peoples' minds, no matter where she was, or what she was doing. She could be standing twenty or thirty yards away from a person, and _still_ manage to hear there thoughts, as clear as if they were sports scores coming over a loud speaker. "I feel your pain."  
  
"You can probably read it, too," Rogue laughed. "Thanks." She smiled, knowing that her friends knew what she was going through, right down to the punctuation mark. They had each had their owns problems and experiences with the opposite gender, stories that they would tell each other into the night, and get one another laughing like crazy.  
  
Another few moments passed, in complete silence, before Jubilee snapped her gum, again, sighed, and rose to her feet.  
  
"This is supposed to be our fun night," she announced, at last, as all eyes fell upon her. "We shouldn't be sitting here, depressing ourselves." Kitty got off of the floor, and continued to look at Jubilee, who had her back turned to everyone.  
  
"What do you suggest?" Kitty asked, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
Without turning around, Jubilee made her final declaration. "Pillow fight!" she screamed, turning around, and throwing a pillow at the first moving object that she could find. After the pillow smacked into Terma, everyone picked up their own pillows, and the girls began to shriek with laughter. They were finally releasing the tension that they had all been feeling for the past week, and they were finally having fun. 

...

"So," Logan continued. "What you are saying is that, and, correct me if I'm wrong, you really think that something like that is going to happen?" He looked at Michelle, who had taken a seat at the counter across from him, and awaited her response.  
  
"Basically, yes," she said, with a nod. "I'm just not positive, and I don't want people to get in an uproar over nothing, do you know what I mean?" Logan nodded, turned his head to the right, and looked out of the window. The rain just kept coming, with no sign of stopping at any time in the near future in sight.  
  
"You should still go to Xavier," he said, looking back at Michelle. "He'd want to know."  
  
"If he doesn't already," she said, with a smile. Logan laughed, and shook his head.  
  
"Trust me, I know that feeling." He straightened his back, getting it out of the hunched position that he had been sitting in for almost an hour. The hour coincided with the amount of time that he and Michelle had been discussing their "creepy feelings", as they had nicknamed them. Logan couldn't believe that they could have been talking about something like personal premonitions for so long, and not be tired, yet. It was almost one-thirty, and they were still going back and forth, sharing ideas, thoughts, whatever came to mind, like they had both had enough caffine to keep them going for the rest of their lives.  
  
Suddenly, a loud crashing sound came from the floor above, followed, by laughter. Michelle and Logan had heard loud stomping sounds coming from the same area some time ago, and had left it alone. Now, with the crash, Michelle put up her hands.  
  
"That's it," she whispered, her voice lined with laughter. "I'll go see what they're up to. Be back."  
  
"Be here," Logan called, as she walked out of the room. He saw her hold up a fist, as she made a left turn, and made her way toward the stairs. 

...

Michelle wasn't sure just what she had heard, nor exactly which room it had been coming from. Though she had a valid idea, she wasn't completely positive.  
  
As she continued to creep up the stairs, trying desperately hard not to make any noise, Michelle kept listening. Stopping in front of one door, where she figured the noise was coming from, she wasn't surprised to hear the sounds of female laughter from the other side of the barrier. She knocked on the door, and tried to call to the girls.  
  
"Girls?" she asked, and waited. When no response came, she tried again. "Girls?" She knocked again, still with no answer. Finally, she tried the handle, and found that the door was unlocked. She slid the door open, and peeked inside. The laughter continued, and she went unnoticed by the four girls inside. There were feathers flying in twelve thousand different directions, and Michelle let out a scream, as she had to duck a pillow, or, what she thought it was, which was flying in her direction.  
  
"Guys!" Kitty yelled, noticing where her pillow had found it's place. Michelle looked up, and so did everyone else. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to - ."  
  
"It's alright," Michelle laughed. "Just surprised me a little bit."  
  
"Is there something that we can help you with, Michelle?" Jubilee asked, afraid that she would be mad. "I mean, well, you know what I mean."  
  
"Are we being too loud?" Rogue asked, as if to have read Michelle's mind. Rogue cracked an innocent smile, and Michelle laughed.  
  
"We can hear you in the kitchen," Michelle informed them, nodding her head.  
  
"We?" Jubilee inquired, a mischevious smile creeping across her face.  
  
"Logan and I, we can hear you in the kitchen," she clarified for the younger girl. Michelle turned back toward the door. "I just thought that I would ask you to end your pillow fight for the night. You don't have to go to bed, but I don't think that John and Bobby, along with the rest of the mansion, should have to be disturbed from their sleep." She opened the door, stopped, and turned back to the girls. "What did you guys break?" she asked, referring to the crash that had sent her up in the first place. Terma, who was standing by her bed, held up a lamp shade. Michelle nodded her head, and turned toward the hallway again. "Goodnight, girls," she said.  
  
"Goodnight," they all called, in perfect unison.  
  
"_How rehearsed_," Michelle thought to herself, with a laugh. She began to creep back through the hallway, toward the stairs, when she decided that it might be a good idea to check on the two boys in the room next to the girls. If they were awake, she would explain to them what the noise was.  
  
As she knocked on the door, Michelle lightly turned the door handle, only to discover that the door wasn't even shut all of the way. She found it dtrange, and slowly began to push the door open.  
  
"Guys?" she whispered, not sure if they were awake. When the door was open wide enough for her to see inside, she saw that the two were, indeed, asleep; they were both in John's bed, with John snuggled up against Bobby. The room was completely dark, but Michelle knew that John was most likely smiling.  
  
Michelle smiled to herself, and closed the door. The relationship between the two boys had existed for quite some time, before they had finally committed to it, according to a reliable source, who had sworn her to secrecy about the whole thing. She was happy to keep the confidentiality, as well as the secret, just that; a secret. It was good that John had crawled out of his dark space, and it gave her the feeling that, maybe, just maybe, her bad feeling was wrong. 

As she crept down the hallway, and back down the stairs, Michelle continued to smile, and made her way back to the kitchen. As promised, Logan was still there, and was busy grabbing a beer from his secret hiding spot in the refrigerator; right behind her vegetable juice. She smiled, and returned to her spot.  
  
"Everything good?" Logan asked, as he closed the refrigerator door. He set a can of juice in front of Michelle, and sat down.  
  
"Thanks," she said, with a smile, referring to the juice. "Yeah," she nodded. "Just a pillow fight out of control."  
  
"How'd the guys take it?" He saw Michelle's smile, and raised and eyebrow. "What are you smiling about?" he asked, with a curious smile of his own.  
  
Michelle shot her head up, and looked at Logan. "Oh, nothing," she replied. "They were asleep." Logan nodded, and took a swallow of his beer. Michelle cracked open her can of vegetable juice, and took a sip of it. "So, where were we?" she asked, trying to get back to the topic originally at hand.  
  
Logan looked back at her, and laughed. "I've got no idea," he said, honestly. Michelle sighed, and shook her head. "What?" Logan asked, not sure of what she was doing.  
  
"Nothing." She looked up, and smiled. "I remember where we were." Michelle filled Logan in, and the two went back to their night's primary topic of conversation.

* * *

Author's Note: There you have it! A longer chapter! I am very fond of this one, so I await you thoughts one it, just as always! Thanks for reading! Until the next chapter... 


	4. See No Evil, Hear No Evil

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words, as well as the character named Michelle. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Yes, there was a gap. Writer's Block, paired with another X-Men story, results in no updates with this story. Now, a few things. iluvwriting, Ororo Munroe is Storm. For anyone reading Heated Introductions, please, check my profile for where it can be found. As it is a "you" fic, it can not be updated, here. So, without anything further, I present Chapter Four! Enjoy!

* * *

Logan lurked through the hallway of the dormatories. He couldn't sleep, no matter how much he tried; something in his mind was telling him that he had to stay awake.

He had left the kitchen at about three, about ten minutes after Michelle had gone back to bed. He, on the other hand, had no hope of gaining any rest, whatsoever. Not with his senses kicking into overdrive.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Logan darted his head to the right; a sharp whimpering was catching his sense of sound. He continued, down to the end of the hallway, trying his best to follow the sound of the small cries. It sounded like a small child, a young girl, specifically. To Logan, it just meant that another one of the newer students had gotten out of bed, failed to recognize where she was, and had gotten scared. That, in turn, meant that _he_ would have to be the one to put the child back to bed.

God, how he hated kids, sometimes.

Logan kept going, down the hall, right turn, down the next hall, left turn, down the next hall. He just kept following what he heard. Sometimes, he hated his sense of hearing, too. As advanced as it was, he could be hearing some kid two miles away, for all he knew. With another turn to the left, Logan stopped to consider something that he hadn't.

"_This whimpering is the same volume now that it was when I began_," he thought to himself, silently.

It didn't make sense; it was almost impossible. Unless...

Unless the source of the sounds was on the move.

-o-o-

Michelle's neck cracked, as she climbed in to bed. A sigh escaped her mouth, as she looked to her left, and, once again, found the once occupied spot empty. It almost pained her to get in to the queen sized bed at night. No one knew it, but, this was the reason for her constant string of midnight escapades. Of course, Logan could have sensed it, but, other than that, Michelle was certain that no one knew that she did not like sleeping here anymore.

Resting her head against one of the pillows, Michelle closed her eyes, and awaited the moment that would take her to another world, where she could face things that made the normal world seem like a fluffy little kitten, just waiting to be cuddled. However, the nightmares did not get the chance to take affect, and Michelle sat upright in bed, as a familiar smell began to encompass the room.

It couldn't be.

Taking a deep breath, Michelle confirmed the scent. It made her shake on the outside, and filled her with the worst sense of guilt on the inside.

It just wasn't possible.

Michelle's eyes darted around the room, from one wall to the next, searching out every corner and every shadow, looking for anything that she thought could be there. The moonlight was dim, and granted her no aid in searching the large room. She considered getting out of bed, turning on a light, and looking around in that manner. Honestly enough, however, Michelle was a little bit too on the freaked out side to even give the idea a second thought.

Some movement at the corner of her eye forced Michelle to dart her head to the left. What she saw almost made her scream; two slanted, glowing, green eyes, staring her down, like a cat.

Michelle felt her breath catch in her chest, as an alarm went off in her head. Something was telling her to scream, but she never got the chance. Michelle felt something hit her in the back of the head, and she fell sideways, unconcious. The last thing that she remembered was hearing the most familiar voice in the world.

"Sleep, my angel."

-o-o-

Ororo fumbled with the sheets of her bed. It was now almost three-thirty in the morning, and she still had yet to fall asleep. Her mind was elsewhere, completely absorbed in the idea of one thing.

Frikin' blue fuzz ball.

Kurt had a way of capturing her mind, and her senses, and not letting go. It was annoying as all hell. However, such was not the case on this evening, more appropriately, this morning. No, tonight, it had been something completely different. Tonight would be the fourth consecutive night of no sleep, if she didn't get him out of her room.

"I'll kill him," she mumbled, as she sat up. She pulled back the covers, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. If Kurt wanted to play games, then, fine. She could fight fire with fire, so to speak.

Striding out of her room, mad as hell, Ororo did not bother to grab her night robes. She was bent on giving Kurt a good what for, and could really care less about how presentable she looked. All that she wanted was to get the Incredible Pain in the Ass Nightcrawler to stop teleporting in and out of her room.

Finding Kurt's room, Ororo regained what little posture she had left in her, and knocked on the door. She waited for his response.

"Come in," Kurt called, sleepily. Ororo smiled; at least she had woken him up.

As she opened the door, Ororo put on her most friendly face, as a cover. She clicked on the light, and Kurt shielded his eyes from the intruding beams. As soon as he adjusted his eyes, Kurt locked eyes with his girlfriend, and smiled.

"Oh, Ororo. Hello."

Ororo shut the door, locked it, and turned back to the man before her. She continued to smile, knowing that it looked extremely fake. She had to hold in a laugh of contentment, at seeing Kurt's face, as it fell, into an expression of fear.

"Uh-oh," he breathed. "Vat did I do, now, darling?" he asked, meekly, his accent growing stronger, as he began to become more and more alert.

"You jack ass!" Ororo screamed. "How dare you? You think that you can just teleport in and out of my room at your leisure? Think again!"

"Vat are you talking about?" Kurt asked, incredulous.

Ororo scowled. "Don't give me that crap! I can smell you in there! I don't hear you, but, I can smell you!" She stopped, and thought about what she had just said. "Wait. Why can't I hear you? Did you find a way to silence the sounds that you make?"

Kurt, who was still trying to take in Ororo's _first_ statement, shook his head at her last question. "Vat are you talking about? I haven't been in your room at all!"

"Liar," Ororo said, simply, as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm serious!"

Ororo studied Kurt's face for a moment, seeing something in it that made her question her accusation. However, she did not let her doubt show, and continued her inquiry. "Where have you been, then?"

Kurt sighed. "Vith the Professor. He asked me to help him vith..." he trailed.

"With what?"

"Nothing. However, I svear, I vas not in your room!"

Ororo opened her mouth to speak, but, she didn't get the chance to. A high pitched shrieking sound filled the room, and it sent shivers down the spines of both of the individuals present.

"Vat vas dat?" Kurt asked, his face steadily becoming a much lighter shade of blue, something that Ororo had never thought possible.

Ororo swallowed, equally startled, and shook her head from side to side. "I'll tell you one thing," she said, pausing before continuing. "That wasn't Siren."

Kurt shook, and looked up, at the ceiling. Ororo followed his lead. Whatever it was, it was definitely not a normal occurance. It was out of the ordinary, even for them.

-o-o-

Jean shot up in bed, again, frightened out of her mind.

"Just a dream," she muttered to herself, as she began to shake. "It was just a dream."

"Jean?" Scott asked, as he came running out of the bathroom. "Jean? Honey, what's wrong?" He searched his love's face for any indication of what had happened. Then, it hit him; another nightmare. "It's okay, Jean. It's over now."

"Scott," Jean said, looking up. "I think it's time to wake up the Professor."

* * *

Author's Note: Well, there you have it! I hope that you enjoyed it! Some things will be answered in the next chapter. So, if you are questioning a few things, (specifically, section two, and where in the world I am going with all of this), don't worry! I will answer it all, shortly! Well, over a period of a few chapters, that is! Thanks for reading! I look forward to your kind words! Until the next chapter...


	5. A Scream in the Night

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words, as well as the character named Michelle. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Another gap, I know. However, I did manage to put together a new chapter, as a reward to myself. On a side note, for those still reading _Heated Introductions_, I will be making an update to that as soon as it is placed on my new archive. Keep checking Lighter Fluid for details. Anyway, with all of that said, I give you Chapter Five! Enjoy!

* * *

A loud boom of thunder elicited yet another scream from the group of already terrified girls. One could hardly blame the girls for being afraid; anyone would be, if they had just experienced what Rogue, Kitty, Jubilee, and Terma just had.

The four girls were huddled together, in a corner of the room, in between Rogue's bed, and the wall opposite the room's main exit. They were all frightened half to death, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the storm that was raging just outside of the bedroom window.

"What the hell was that?" Jubilee asked, her voice shaking.

Rogue shook her head. "I don't know," she replied. "I've never seen anything like it in my life."

"I know what it looked like," Terma whispered. "I just don't think that it could have been..." She allowed her voice to trail, leaving the question hanging in the air.

"What do you think that it was?" Rogue inquired, her voice no less shakey than that of Jubilee.

Terma bit her bottom lip, as she debated whether or not she should say anything. Deciding that saying something stupid was better than saying nothing at all, and being left in a terrifying silence, Terma opened her mouth, and began to speak. "It looked like a leopard." She cringed, a little, at the prospect of being called an idiot, or, something similar. However, the response that she actually recieved was anything but predicted.

"Good," Jubilee said, with a sigh. "I'm glad that I'm not the only one who thought that it looked like an over grown house cat."

Kitty, who had been silent until the time being, sighed, loudly. "That makes three of us."

"Four," Rogue chimed in, with a small shrug. "But, if it was a cat, where did it go?"

The four girls glanced back and forth at one another, nervously, mentally passing the newly lingering question back and forth. Just as the four began breathe a bit easier, another boom of thunder sounded, followed by a bright flash of light, and a chorus of female screams. Tensions that were momentarily eased were definitely back on high.

-o-o-

Jean grabbed her night robe, pulled it on to her body, and made her way toward her bedroom door. Scott followed, barely two steps behind her. He got close enough, at one point, where he ended up stepping on the back of Jean's heel. He quickly caught up with her, to walk beside her, as they both exited their bedroom.

Jean was scared to death; no dream had ever before held the severity that her last one had. She knew that something was about to happen, something mind blowing, something terrible. She had the feeling that something bad was already transpiring, but, what? Unfortunately, Jean had absolutely no answers. The only thing that was certain was that the Professor had to be notified.

Scott, too, was numbed by Jean's sudden fear. However, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut; the last time that he hadn't, Jean had let him know it. Of course, he was tempted to ask about the very last phases of her dream. The only problem was that he knew that Jean wouldn't hear him. Even if she did, she would ignore him. That was just how Jean acted when she was in time-for-the-Professor-to-read-my-dream mode.

Without so much as a single word, the two made a turn to the right, headed for the back staircase. However, they were interrupted, as Jean smacked in to something, and let out a scream.

-o-o-

"Bobby," John whispered, both his voice and body trembling. "Bobby, wake up." He waited for his boyfriend to stir. When the other boy made no movement, John shook him, lightly. "Bobby, get up, quick," John urged, as he shook Bobby's shoulder. His voice was more demanding, as he was growing impatient, and all the more afraid.

Finally, Bobby rolled over, opened his eyes, and stared up at John. A smile crossed Bobby's lips, as he took John's right hand in his left.

"Hey," he whispered, groggily. As he studied John's face, Bobby noticed that something was off. "John, what's wrong?" He stared in to the widened eyes of his best friend, awaiting an answer.

"You didn't hear that?" John asked, his voice plastered with surprise.

Bobby shrugged, and shook his head, from side to side. "Hear what?"

As if he had timed it to perfection, John listened, and trembled, as another scream floated its way through the air. Once the sound had resonated its way in and out of the room, John glanced at Bobby, who John could see was visibly shaken by the noise, as well.

"That," John said, with another shudder of his spine. "It's been going on for about ten minutes."

Bobby opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted, as yet another high-pitched, feminen sounding scream filled the room. Bobby looked from the ceiling, to the walls, and to the door, which lead in to the hallway. Suddenly, it hit him. He looked back at John, and bit on his bottom lip.

John exchanged a glance with his friend, before they both gave thier conclusions, in unison.

"The girls."

As they threw back the covers, John and Bobby wasted no time in reaching the door. A boom of thunder sounded, and John almost jumped up, and in to Bobby's arms. Instead he ended up turning around, and burying his face in Bobby's neck.

"Woah," Bobby whispered. John had caught him off-guard, a little, but no more so than the thunder. "John, are you afraid of the thunder?" Bobby asked, sarcastically. When he felt John's body tense, followed by the motion of John nodding his head, Bobby wrapped his arms around the other boy, and gave him a tight hug. "It's alright," he whispered. "I'm here."

"I know," John whispered back, his sounds muffled by Bobby's neck.

Bobby was a bit shaken by John's actions. He was acting very strange, lately, even for him. Now, of course, it fit in to place; Bobby had never known that his boyfriend was afraid of thunder.

"_Too many nights alone on the streets_," Bobby thought to himself, silently. He loosened his grip around John, as he noticed that the grip around himself was also growing more relaxed. He pulled away from John, enough to look into his deep brown eyes, and smiled, a little. "Let's go see about the girls."

John nodded, and the two made their way out of their bedroom, and in to the hallway. All that either could think was that this was shaping up to be some night.

* * *

Author's Note: Granted, it wasn't the longest chapter in the world, but, I think that it is a good way for me to wrap up my night. I might have another chapter up within the next few days, but, with the way that things go, I can't make any promises. (Well, I can, obviously, but, I won't, for fear of breaking said promises). Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope that you enjoyed it! I know that I enjoyed writing it! As always, I look forward to you kind words! Until the next chapter...


	6. Warned by Discovery

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words, as well as the character named Michelle. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Sorry about the recent lack in updates. I have been busy with some other work that needed to be taken care of. Anyway, with Halloween quickly approaching, I thought that it would be a good idea for me to wrap up the story over the weekend. Of course, this means that I will be typing like a mad woman, in my attempts to get the next twelve or thirteen chapters done. Who knows? Anyway, here is Chapter Six! I hope that you enjoy it!

* * *

Logan stood in the hallway, about three steps from where he had rounded the last corner. It had been a left turn, which Logan had subconsciously noted to be what he had been doing for the past few moments. He had been in the process of randomly alternating between left and right turns, but, somewhere, he had begun to chase the sounds of the whimpers in a never ending maze of left turns. It was all left turns, and, truth be told, he was sick of it.

A strike of the large grandfather clock in the next hallway nearly sent Logan through the ceiling, as the old wooden structure sounded the new hour.

"_Holy shit_," Logan thought to himself, silently. "_It's two, already_."

As he shook his head from side to side, Logan momentarily blocked from his mind the idea of just why he was in the hallway. When his mind was allowed to catch up with him, once again, Logan listened, trying to recapture just where the sound had gotten to.

"_Stupid thought_," he noted, mentally. "_The damned noise hasn't actually moved anywhere_."

He continued to listen, but, his hightened senses picked up absolutely no sound at all. For the first time since he could remember, Logan had to physically _strain_ to listen for a noise. He was almost fully satisfied that he would either not find the sound, or, that the girl had finally resolved to get back to her own room. For the moment, Logan was happy to just accept the latter of the two, and resolve to get back to _his_ own room. Just because he was physically indestructable didn't mean that the Wolverine could work and properly function for a full day on twenty minutes of sleep.

Logan turned, and began to take a step toward the hallway that he had been in, previously, planning on retracing his steps. No sooner had he taken his first complete step, than did he hear a high pitched screech. By Logan's senses, the sound had floated past him, and back down the hallway, in the exact direction that he had come from. Without making a move, Logan continued to listen. What he heard surprised him; someone, or something, was laughing. It was actually more of a giggle, which threw Logan even further in to question.

"_Look to your left_."

Logan heard the voice, which came out of thin air, and did as it instructed. With haste, Logan turned to his immiediate left, and found himself standing before a very familiar bedroom door. He found it odd that the voice had instructed him to look in that direction, but, what was even more odd, still, was that the white painted door was ajar. Though it was just a tad bit cracked, a soft alarm was going off in Logan's head. He had no idea why, but, something was compelling him to pass through the wooden frame.

Attempting to be as quiet as possible, as not to wake the young woman on the other side, Logan eased the door open, just enough so that he could see inside. The soft light from the lamp seated on a bedside table illuminated the eloquent silouette of her room, perfectly, and brought to life a scene that startled Logan to a new degree.

"Holy shit!" he breathed, as he rushed across the threshold, and in to the room. When he reached the spot just a few feet from the bed, Logan bent down, and examined the image before him. Amid a pile of sheets, blankets, and pillows, was the unconscious form of Michelle. The air around her was making the hairs on the back of Logan's neck stand on end, and he felt the immediate need to proceed with extreme caution. Something in the room failed to feel right.

As Logan turned Michelle over, from her left side, to her back, she began to stir.

"Michelle?" he asked, his tone loud enough to be considered a shout. "Michelle, can you hear me?"

Michelle's eyelids fluttered, and Logan knew that she was trying to open her eyes. It was close enough to a response for Logan's comfort. Within a few seconds, Michelle's were open, and she began to mutter, quietly, and incoherently. Not knowing exactly what to do, Logan tried to get some answers from the girl.

"Michelle, what happened?" he asked, knowing that the question would most likely go unanswered. Suddenly, Michelle let out a small, strangled sound, which Logan considered to be a gasp. This caught his attention. "Michelle, what is it?" he asked, concerned.

The brunette muttered something, but Logan could not decypher her mumbles.

"What?" he asked, twisting his face in confusion. He leaned in, closer, as Michelle began to speak, again.

"Watch out."

As soon as the words left Michelle's mouth, Logan felt something hit his head, and he lost all sense of consciousness. However, before he managed to sink in to the blackness, Logan heard a strange voice, as it gave a warning.

"Stay away."

* * *

Author's Note: Yes, it was a little short, but, I am not done for the night! Another chapter will be up, son, either tonight, or, early tomorrow morning. Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope that you enjoyed it! I know that I enjoyed writing it! As always, I look forward to your kind words! Until the next chapter...


	7. In the Dark

Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines are property of Marvel and Fox. I lay claim to nothing but the compilation of the words, as well as the character named Michelle. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Another chapter, just as promised! More are on the way, but, I don't know that I will be able to finish it this weekend. I will do what I can, but, I can't promise much! Anyway, here is Chapter Seven! Enjoy!

* * *

"Oh, God!" Jean breathed, placing a hand to her chest. A chorus of screams echoed from there, then silenced. Once everything became more or less quiet, Jean looked up, and identified the object that she had smacked in to. "_Ororo_?!" she screamed, her tone both frantic, and relieved.

"_Jean_?" came Ororo's equally surprised response. "Scott?" she asked, catching sight of the man. "What in the world are you guys doing?"

"Well, we could ask you two the same thing," Scott replied, taking a moment to glance at Kurt.

"Yes, vell..." Kurt trailed, deciding to leave it up to his girlfriend.

"We heard some strange noises," Ororo informed Jean and Scott, picking up where Kurt had so eloquently left off. "We were just off to investigate, or, find the Professor. Which ever way we could work it."

Jean nodded. "Well, then, you can come with us," she offered. "We're on our way to find Professor Xavier, ourselves."

At hearing Jean's words, Ororo's head shot up, alarmed. "Why? What happened?" Her tone was frantic, as she darted her head back and forth, between her two friends. Jean sighed, and Scott shrugged, as Ororo's eyes came to rest on him. Ororo looked back at Jean, and inquired, again. "What's wrong, Jean?"

"I'm not sure, yet," the other woman concluded. "Let's just find the Professor." With her words, Jean brushed past Ororo and Kurt, and continued down the hallway.

Ororo looked up, once again, at Scott, and raised her eyebrows., silently asking what was happening. Again, Scott shrugged, and Ororo rolled her eyes. Turning back around, she made her way around Kurt, and caught up with Jean, who had reached the middle of the hallway.

"Jean," Ororo whispered. She didn't really know how to approach the subject of Jean's dream, as she had never had cause to ask, before. "Jean, what happened in your dream?"

Jean sighed, again, but, she didn't turn around to face her friend. She just continued down the hallway.

"Jean?"

"I _really_ don't feel like playing Twenty Questions, right now, Ororo," Jean replied, flatly.

"Neither do I," said Ororo, pointedly. "I just want to know -."

"I think that something terrible is about to happen." Jean swallowed, hard. "I think that the students are in danger."

-o-o-

John and Bobby burst through the girls' bedroom door, after having tried to break through for at least seven or eight minutes. The door had been locked, so the two boys had to fight their way to get through it. When they finally got inside, Bobby moved to turn on the bedroom light, which was, for some odd, unknown reason, turned off. However, when his fingers flicked on the light switch, nothing happened. Upon closer inspection, Bobby discovered that the lightbulb that had been inside of the light, itself, had been shattered.

"_Party games_," Bobby thought to himself, silently, thinking about the proclaimed Girl's Night In, which, if he remembered correctly, was taking place that night.

John slid in front of Bobby, who was standing a few feet in front of the first of two beds, and began looking around. He checked in between the beds, on either side, and under them, every time coming up empty. Turning back to Bobby, John shrugged, a bewildered look covering his face.

"They aren't here," John informed his boyfriend, with another small shrug.

A confused look crossed Bobby's features, before he began to inquire. "Are you sure?"

Before John could confirm his answer, the bedroom door began to swing closed, and someone screamed. This, in turn, caused John and Bobby to scream, and grab on to one another's arms, as a long stick became visible, along with four figures masked by the darkness. The stick was swung at them, just missing John's head, and the two boys stumbled backward, and hit the ground.

"Stop!" came a female voice, which was followed by a bright burst of light. "John? Bobby? What are you guys doing in here?"

Bobby looked up, and blinked his eyes, twice, to adjust to the light. When the figure holding the flashlight came in to view, Bobby scoffed.

"Kitty!" Bobby shifted his gaze, and tried to make out the individual with the stick. "Jubilee! What do you think that you are doing?"

Jubilee looked a little embarrassed, as she shifted from left, to right, and back, again. She lowered the stick to the ground, and Bobby realized that it was a broom.

"Sorry, guys," came Rogue's voice. "We just - ."

"Lost your minds?" John suggested, cutting Rogue off. "Who did you think we were?"

"_What_ would be more like it," Terma threw in, timidly.

John and Bobby exchanged a quick glance, and looked back up, at the four girls.

"What are you talking about?" Bobby questioned.

The four girls looked at one another, quickly, and Jubilee took the floor.

"There was something in here, earlier." She paused. "A cat."

John smirked. "A cat?" he asked, his voice lined with laughter. "You got out the heavy artillery over a _cat_?"

"It wasn't just a cat," Rogue informed John, growing rather annoyed by his teasing. "According to Terma, it was a leopard."

"A leopard?" Bobby asked. "Are you sure?"

"Would we lie about something like that?"

"I suppose not. But, why did you stay here? Why didn't you go to the Common Room?" Bobby looked at each of the girls, and stared back at Rogue.

"Or, maybe, to one of the X-Men?" John replied, with another smirk. Bobby swatted John's right arm, without leaving the locked gaze of his ex-girlfriend.

Rogue shuffled her feet, a little. "Honestly, we were afraid to go _anywhere_." She looked from Bobby, to John, and back to Bobby, again. "But, with you guys here, we could probably go somewhere, if you wanted to."

Bobby shook his head. "Maybe in a little while. I know that it is against the rules, but, if it would make you guys feel any better, John and I could stay here for the rest of the night."

"We could?" John asked, before being swatted across the right arm, again.

"Yes, we could," Bobby replied. "So, girls, what do you say? Do you want us to stay here, or, will you be alright on your own?"

The girls shared yet another round of glances, before making a silent agreement. Rogue smiled, and Jubilee picked up the conversation.

"As long as you don't mind sleeping on the floor."

* * *

Author's Note: I hated having to put both sections in to the same chapter, but, I couldn't split them apart, without the first part being too short. However, there will not be much more of the several sections per chapter from here on. After this, most of the chapters will be in regular story form, not jumping around like they have been. Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope that you enjoyed it! Another chapter will be up, soon! As always, I look forward to your kind words! Until the next chapter...


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